


The Sun Rises Quietly

by deaddoh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Character Study, Depression, Feels, Light Angst, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaddoh/pseuds/deaddoh
Summary: Tsukishima is watching the world move, only sometimes moving along with it.---Kuroo is waiting, feeling the spin of the earth pull him along.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Kudos: 14





	1. The black-haired stranger

_The sun rises quietly. Not expecting to get a reward, not expecting to receive applause. The day begins as quiet as the late evening ~~early morning.~~ When the streetlights are still on but the cars have stopped coming. The world sits in wait for the light to come, in jagged lines and bright streaks. _

  
  


Tsukishima blinks. Watching his floaters slide across his laptop screen with a spin before disappearing. He sighs quietly and closes his laptop and his eyes. The world continues to move and the blonde lets the noise of the room wash over him in slow realizations.

  1. Someone is sipping from an empty cup, letting their straw grate against the interior of the plastic cup.
  2. Someone is manically flipping through a book, probably panicking over an assignment.
  3. There’s some kind of study group at the windows, someone keeps tapping a tune onto the window pane.



The chair across from Tsukishima scrapes and the blonde finally reopens his eyes. The person across from him has the worst bedhead he’s ever seen, black hair jutting up at harsh angles without even looking like it has an ounce of gel. Completed with a swath of hair covering their right eye. The person gives Tsukishima an apologetic look as if he knows he either a) already knows he looks awful, or b) he’s sorry for sitting across from the blonde. Maybe even both. Tsukishima sighs, standing up and tucking away his laptop. He pushes his chair back in and leaves, remembering the tune from the window pane.

The room’s AC unit is stuttering as the blades flip up, and down is stocky movements showing the utility’s age. Tsukishima is staring up at his ceiling without his glasses on and is letting his floaters swim in his vision. The white of the ceiling’s paint is more off-white than the university would like to admit. Cars pass under the window and the blonde can sometimes catch snippets of conversation floating in the wind. The sun is bright as it prepares to set, coloring the sky. The AC shuts off and Tsukishima sighs.

The sky outside the gym’s windows is dark and Tsukishima pays it no mind. The gym is where he’s supposed to be, so that’s where he’ll stay. Not return to the crickets of the mountains or the sounds of old. He glances back to Yamaguchi, who’s chatting to some kid who looks far too young to be on campus. The blonde puts down his water and Yamaguchi seems to be in-tune with the blonde and jogs over to his side. The strangeness of the situation washes over Tsukishima and he wishes he were back in the library with the scraping straw, the manic page flipper, the window tune, and the black-haired monstrosity in front of him.

Closing the door with a click, Tsukishima presses his back against the door and slowly slides down. The cold floor feels good as the blonde slides his headphone off, gently placing them on the floor next to him. He watches the clouds move across the sky with a speed he can’t seem to match today. The world seems to be going too fast, the air chilling and the leaves already changing color when just yesterday the heat of the sun was visible. The noise of the other students on his hall is deafening. Hearing their doors close and open, the tapping of feet and chattering of voices. Tsukishima looks to the sticky-note tacked to his board, _Time is like a river._ It’s from a professor who claimed to be able to sense people’s auras. ~~How strange.~~

The sky shakes with an anger Tsukishima has never seen before. The clouds are dark with a twinge of green, all swirling and twisting. Lightning flashes and the thunder is quick to follow. The storm is over-head. The blonde is running. Hearing his shoes slap the wet pavement reminds him of walking home from school in storms, in his beat-up shoes he loved and waiting in the rain for lightning to flash before walking inside. The puddles get larger as he approaches his building, indicating where the ground beneath the walkways has sagged with the weight of movement. Tsukishima hops a puddle that could be considered a pond, and meets the eye of the black-haired stranger from so, so long ago.


	2. Golden-brown eyes

_ The sun sets with fan-fare only for itself. The colors aren’t meant for anyone. It’s the way the world is and it too, is without fan-fare. The sun sets with the spin of the earth and the rise of the moon. When the streetlamps are just beginning to flicker on, when the cars are still driving by. _

Kuroo watches as the blonde in front of him open his eyes. The other’s eyes are shockingly clear behind their glasses. They glance at him for an achingly long moment, like they know something about him. They stand and walk away, moving like the ocean breeze Kuroo has never been able to catch.

_ Tsukishima Kei.  _ Kuroo watches the other walk across campus, moving slowly amongst the other students as if wishing to blend in, wishing to be part of a whole. The blonde is walking towards the gym. The sky is clear and the air is warm, the birds fly across the blue like a living painting. The floating conversation from others lulls Kuroo into feeling at home, the voices float around him. Kuroo watches Tsukishima until he enters the gym before standing, watching the first cloud float past.

The room is loud with laughter and the sound of multiple conversations going on all at once. The air is hot with the push and pull of bodies crammed into a relatively small room. The drink in Kuroo’s hand is strong, reminiscent of Tsukishima’s eyes. The room pulses in different colors and it feels like Kuroo’s floating, light, and airy. He watches his friends laugh and talk and drink, shoving the feeling of distance away. He finishes his drink and the burn of the alcohol is reminiscent of a forgotten game.

Someone clicks a pen and the scratching of paper quickly follows. Kuroo looks up, seeing someone chittering quietly with another as songbirds do when they meet. The fluttering of wings and the rustling of feathers. The sky is clear and it reminds the back-haired man of crows and eagles and owls. Flying high and moving amongst the background of the sky, whether day or night. High or low. Eyes sharp, minds quick, unforgettable. Birds cross the sky, but not like the crows, eagles, or owls, simply going from place-to-place. Moving to live, not living to move.

The lightbulb in Kuroo’s lamp flickers. He looks up from his textbook and watches the light blink again, like a car’s turn signal. The lamp itself is old and worn, an old memento of what used be and what might become. The lamp’s on button is worn from years of Kuroo’s nervous habit, rubbing his finger against the smooth surface hoping for a fraction of traction that has and will never be there. The light flickers again, plunging the room into and out of darkness. Cars pass and the hum of their engines reminds Kuroo of walking to school. The lights outside blink, red white red white. Calling out to the planes, to the birds, wishing to fly, wishing to become stars.

Summer’s heat no longer presses into Kuroo’s lungs. The cicadas have stopped calling and the world moves just a bit slower. The lecture halls are warmer, as are the drinks in the cafe. Jackets, long sleeves, jeans, boots reemerge from their closet shelves and hidden boxes. The leaves change color as a chameleon would and it reminds Kuroo of Tsukishima’s eyes, golden brown. The noise of life goes quieter, people spending their time inside, leaving behind the sun, the sky, the birds. Kuroo smiles, feeling mindless as he sees Tsukishima walk by in a jacket and jeans and heavy-looking boots. The blonde has his headphones on and is walking slow, meandering as if he’s got nowhere to be.

The storm is sudden and it’s surprising this time of year. It sends people running. Kuroo watches the lightning flash, hearing the crackle before the crash and the humming after the roar. The rain pounds into his skin, soaking his clothes and chilling his bones. The rain is falling in waves like the ocean tide, skimming the trees and shaking the lamposts. The world seems to shake with the thunder rolling across the clouds and the back of the sky. Quick steps catch Kuroo’s attention and he glances. Kuroo’s eyes widen, like childhood surprise. Tsukishima leaping over a puddle and meeting his glace with wide golden eyes that seem to light up with the lightning that flashes. Like a moment in time when a camera’s shutter closes just at the right speed. Catching a beautiful sight, bird feathers falling, an eagle’s catch, an owl’s talons. The camera’s shutter clicking with an image meant to be seen again.


	3. Separate

_ Beaches are special. Some see the sunrise, others see the sunset. They all see the stars, the moon. The tide pushes the sunrise, shoving it into the sky. The sea sucks up the sunset, swallowing the sun under the waves. The sand catches the moonlight, the sunlight and shines it back with the gritty grimy streetlamps. _

Tsukishima watches as the black-haired stranger sits in front of him with a grin.  _ Kuroo Tetsuro.  _ The sky is dark, rain hanging heavy in the clouds like the dark puddles that still remain from the last storm. He watches the clouds swirl and twist behind Kuroo’s head, looking like they’re an extension of the awful bedhead. The room is quiet, but still too loud and impersonal for this meeting. The hushed voices in the background, the clicking of computers, and paper ruffling. It makes Tuskishima frown. Instead, Kuroo says something and the two get up, the black-haired no-longer stranger is grinning.

Warm. The gym is humid as Tsukishima wipes his brow and sips from his water. The sun is out and the clouds are slowly skimming across the sky. The birds are probably calling to each other. They skitter across the sky in chaotic patterns and the blonde watches like them like a cat, critical. The gym is noisy, even with headphones. The sounds of treadmill belts, the clinking of weights, the sounds of breathing. The blonde watches the clouds a little longer before returning to his circuit, mind just a little foggier.

Kuroo’s lamp is thrown out; bulb and all. A modern desk lamp sits in its place, all shiny and sleek. The design is still the same, with a flexible metal neck and a cone-shaped shade, but all the memories attached to the old one are gone. To be crushed and mangled. Tsukishima wondered about the old thing easily seeing the love and age of the lamp. But Kuroo responded with light tones and a dismissive attitude, tossing the lamp into the trash. Seeing the lamp in the trash sends a pang into Kuroo’s chest that tightens his lungs and gums up his throat. It’s like the lamp calls for its place back, for Kuroo to want to keep all those memories. 

~~ Kuroo fishes it out. ~~

The steam rising from the cup warms the black-haired man’s face. His hands hold the sides and heat seeps out of there too. His hands ache less. The lampposts are on and have been on for a while, but Kuroo still walks. Amongst the quiet roads and the silent trees and noisy bushes. Home is like a long-lost friend, so familiar but different in a way that’s unidentifiable. The road next to him is one he walked every day to school. He walked back all the same, just tired. It’s where he walked after defeat after defeat. Victory after victory. The sidewalk is chipped and cracked with age but it remains stable and connected. The sounds of crickets and cats are familiar. The sun begins to rise.


	4. Together

_Glass is clear. As is the sky on a good day. Both let the sun shine through and warm those around._

Somehow, during the spin of the earth and the chilling days, Kuroo and Tsukishima end up together. They collide less like desperate lovers in a romantic movie scene shot in the rain and more like planets slowly closing into each other’s orbits. Distant and slow, then close and fast. They didn’t collide with clashing lips, thunder and lightning in the background, but more like an evaporating puddle. They began with simple conversations, icebreakers and jokes. ~~Compliments veiled like barbs and jabs.~~ Sporadic in sightings and shorter conversations. 

Next came the intentional meetings, texts, calls. Longer conversations coming closer to their lives so separate from one another. The lengths of text chains increased, formalities dropped. They meet for a real date at some point, but not exact. It’s confused in all their meetings. Half-conversations become more and more full, like a blossoming flower turning its head to the sun. The time they spend together gets longer and longer. Dorms, cafes, gym meetups, study sessions. They slowly lengthen like spring stretching herself into summer.

Finally, Tsukishima accepted Kuroo’s advances with a small smile instead of a frown. Their lives truly began to intertwine. Like tendrils of ivy meeting, curling onto themselves. Kuroo is used to seeing Tsukishima like he always had, mysterious and attractive. Someone elusive with their life. Someone secretive and surprising all the same. Tsukishima sees Kuroo like a cat, smart and aloof with hidden knowledge. The two mix. They infiltrate each other’s lives, leaving nick-knacks in dorm rooms, hidden notes in between book pages, photographs in phones. They slowly meld together and become whole.

  
 _The sunrise and the sunset finally meet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE ON DIFFERENT DAYS!! hopefully the same energy is conveyed in each chapter. thanks for reading! <3


End file.
